


Final Orders

by Worlds_Collided



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worlds_Collided/pseuds/Worlds_Collided
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was given these orders months ago - directly after Castiel's grace was taken from him." Cupid gives a thoughtful pause, eyes flicking between the two men. Castiel looks confused, so he clarifies, as if he could hear the question on the fallen angel's mind, even without the need for it to be voiced. "Orders from God."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Orders

"Those lights, they jus' gotta be an omen, ya know?" The man, this stranger that neither of them has ever seen before, casually slips into the booth beside Dean with his drink held in one hand, the other ushering the hunter further into the booth so he could have a place at his side. Like he has every reason to be there, with them. He doesn't notice - or doesn't give a damn about - the ' _go away_ ' look that Dean flashes in his direction or the way that Castiel shuffles awkwardly along his side of the booth so he's across from Dean instead of the new comer, dragging his own plate and drink across the table with him, going on as he intrudes upon the conversation he over heard.  
  
"A sign from God or somethin'!" He prods his elbow against Dean's arm, which causes the hunter to drop the burger he was trying to bite into back onto the plate in front of him, and grins across at Castiel in a friendly manner.  
  
Castiel cocks his head to the side, his food remaining untouched as he at least tries to engage the man, "What kind of sign?" He questions. He already knows the answer - they _both_ already know the answer - but he knows enough about human interaction to know that he should make some attempt at keeping their new companion satisfied with the direction of the conversation.  
  
"I dunno," The man admits, taking a drink from his glass. Dean rolls his shoulders, catching the hint that Castiel wants to talk to this man, and sits back in his seat, leaning against the back of the booth. After all, this whole trip out of the Bunker was to get Castiel out in the world in a pleasant way, to stop sulking around in the library or clinging to his bed like he'd die if he left it.  
  
"It was like the sky was fallin' though," He adds in thoughtfully, a twinge of sorrow laced deceptively in his words. "Like the world was... Givin' up or..."  
  
"The angels were falling," Castiel finishes after a brief, almost non-existent, pause from the man. "I'm sorry." At the statement, the man laughs, bright and happy, the little hints of sadness gone completely as if they were never there to begin with. He reaches over, patting Castiel's forearm, who tenses in response, but doesn't pull away from the friendly stranger.  
  
"What're you apologizin' for? Not like you made the sky fall!" He pulls back after a moment, easily sliding his smile in Dean's direction and getting a strained one in return from the hunter, before the attention of both men falls back on Castiel, a small smile touching his lips as he stares down at his arm.  
  
The man pauses, letting a comfortable silence fall over them for a minute or two, and then clears his throat, sliding back out of the booth. His smile never falls, the shear happiness in his eyes never falter. He collects his drink with one hand, extending the free hand out to Dean, "Well, it was nice meetin' you guys."  
  
"Same, man," Dean shifts closer to the edge, enough to reach out and shake the man's offered hand, and watches as Castiel does the same when the outstretched hand is pointed in his direction.  
  
As the man pulls back, Dean sees a flash of black on the palm of his hand, in a distinct shape that look familiar to him, though he doesn't catch it in its entirety, a feeling of dread sinking in his stomach. "Fuck," He's already making his way towards the exit as Dean looks to Castiel, blue eyes staring into green as both go wide. "What's that on his hand?"  
  
The man has placed his drink on a random table, having left the diner, the door still drifting shut behind him as the two men practically kill themselves jumping up from the booth. "Son of a bitch," Dean quickly digs into his pocket, tossing several bills onto the table to pay for their uneaten food while Castiel has already bolted out of the door.  
  
By the time he's caught up to them, he's out of breath, gasping for air. Castiel and the man are both just standing up - did he _tackle_ the man to the ground in his haste? Dean snatches the man's hand, jerking it towards himself, palm up and-  
  
"Shit, is that a _bow_ on his hand?" Dean asks, completely rhetorical, he can see that it's a bow, but Castiel replies anyway, helpful as ever.  
  
"Yes," The fallen angel looks from the upturned hand to the man's face, a warm smile spread on his features as Dean releases his wrist. "You're not human, are you?"  
  
"Hello, brother," The man shakes his head lightly in response to the question, chuckling softly. Dean reaches for his gun, taking solace in his fingers wrapping around the metal, eyes narrowing in warning. "How'd you find us?" He demands, voice low.  
  
"I was given these orders months ago - directly after Castiel's grace was taken from him." Cupid gives a thoughtful pause, eyes flicking between the two men. Castiel looks confused, so he clarifies, as if he could hear the question on the fallen angel's mind, even without the need for it to be voiced. "Orders from God."  
  
Dean releases his gun, visibly relaxing. He isn't sure why that gives him some sort of comfort, since he knows it really shouldn't. God hadn't really helped them when they wanted him to, but even Dean knew that he always seemed to step in when they _needed_ him to. "I don't feel any different." He says, finally.  
  
Castiel's brow knits together, his frown deepening in confusion, "Me either." He almost looks disappointed.  
  
"Maybe it didn't work?" Dean's tone is questioning, like he expects some higher power to slap him and shout 'No shit, Sherlock!' for it. Castiel stares at him. "Y'know, 'cause Cupid's cut off from Heaven."  
  
"I still have my powers, you know," The Cupid laughs, taking a step forward towards the two men, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "I came here for a job. Which I just did." Dean opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off when the Cupid pulls back abruptly, still grinning at them.  
  
"Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!" He says, vanishing into the night in the classic I've-done-my-job-so-peace-out angel way, leaving the two men standing confused in the parking lot, more confused than ever.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of [this post](http://journeyintohiddlestiel.tumblr.com/post/58507468297/cupid-well-it-was-nice-meetin-you-guys-cupid).


End file.
